


The King of Friend and Kin Has Need

by crackdkettle



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 05:25:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crackdkettle/pseuds/crackdkettle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kili does not fall in the Battle of Five Armies. Instead he takes a throne that was never meant for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The King of Friend and Kin Has Need

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for this. I've never forgiven J.K. Rowling for killing only one twin, and yet somehow the idea of Kili being forced to rule Erebor without his brother ate my brain. No one's heart is broken more by this idea than mine, but I had to write it down and break yours too. I'm so sorry.
> 
> The title comes from Tolkien's 'Over the Misty Mountains Cold'

The first time he wakes after the battle, he wakes screaming. Someone – a human, he thinks, male, maybe, he isn’t sure, it doesn’t matter anyway – pushes him back onto the bed he woke in, makes gentle hushing sounds, presses something to his mouth.

When he wakes again – seconds, hours, days later, he doesn’t know – he’s still screaming for his brother.

For the first time in Kili’s life, Fili does not answer.

\----

His mother arrives a few days after they stop sedating him. She pushes his tent flap back, and he scrambles from his bed for the first time.

“I’m sorry,” he says, the moment her arms close around him, face pressed to her shoulder. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Oh my darling boy,” Dis murmurs, gently rubbing his back, just like she had when he had hurt himself as a child.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” says Kili, and there’s a spreading wet patch on his mother’s cloak because he’s still a child, and he’s hurt himself again.

“Hush now,” his mother soothes. “I’m here now, it’s all right. It’s all right.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” says Kili. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

This time his mother’s kisses do nothing to ease his pain. This time his wound will not heal.

\----

Dain crowns him King Under the Mountain before returning to the Iron Hills. The rest of the company remains in Erebor, and Dis, of course.

“Your uncle would be proud to see you take the throne,” Dis tells him.

“It was never meant for me,” Kili reminds her.

He divides the treasure among the men of Lake-town and his own people.

“You are generous, King Under the Mountain,” says Bard, when Kili gives him five chests more than the fourteenth share he was promised.

“Both our people suffered the dragon’s fire,” says Kili, “and both brought about his downfall. You have earned your treasure, Lord Bard.”

“It is well given,” says Bard. “We are proud to live in harmony with your people once more.”

Kili smiles tightly. Trading a fourteenth of the treasure for peace with Lake-town causes him none of the anguish it caused Thorin. He can never admit it, but he would trade the whole hoard for one more day with his brother.

\----

Gimli sends word from Lothlorien about the fall of Moria. The guilt pierces Kili at once because in nearly thirty years he’s never sent anyone to see how Moria was faring.

“It is not your fault,” Dis tells him.

“For twenty-four years they rotted and none of us knew,” he says, and it kills him to think of it, wise old Balin and fierce Oin and brave little Ori, pierced by orc arrows, decaying in a long-forgotten hall.

“The world has been an active place in those twenty-four years,” Dis reminds him. “You have had your own evils to battle.”

“I still should have checked,” he says. “Thorin would have checked. Fili–” But he can’t finish the thought.

“Always you compare yourself to your brother,” says Dis gently. “We do not know what sort of king he might have been.”

“I know,” says Kili fiercely, because he always has. “He would have been a much better king than I. He would not have forgotten his people the moment they left his sight.”

“Perhaps not,” says Dis. “But I do not think that would have saved them.”

They do not speak of Moria again.

\----

Kili wants to join Gondor in their stand against Sauron, but his advisors caution against it.

“Sauron will come to us,” they tell Kili. “And if we are not here to defend our borders, Erebor will be overrun. Send word to Dain for assistance.”

They’re right, as always. Dain arrives just two days ahead of the Easterlings, and war. Kili rushes headlong into battle, reckless like when he was young, before he knew what war really was.

He is still young, but he feels ancient. He no longer wishes to be the battle-hardened warrior Thorin had been.

It’s just like the day Fili was cut down before his eyes: Arrows and blood fly around him, and the air is thick with screams of agony.

 _Let this be my final stand,_ he thinks. _Let it be over. Let it end._

Dain falls in the battle. Kili does not.

\----

Gimli returns to Erebor after the Ring is destroyed, and brings Thranduil’s son with him. Forgiveness came easily to Fili, while Kili was more like Thorin and Thrain, but much has changed in sixty years. He welcomes the elf with a graciousness he knows his uncle never could have.

Legolas is different from his father, and the love and respect he has for Gimli is genuine and plain for all to see. It wins Kili over, and he listens as Legolas and Gimli recount their adventures. The four hobbits feature prominently in most of their stories, and Kili misses Bilbo almost as fiercely as he misses his brother.

“You are happy, cousin?” he asks, as Gimli prepares to depart again with Legolas.

“As happy as anyone can be,” Gimli answers. “And you?”

Kili merely smiles.

“Come to the Greenwood with us,” says Gimli. “Legolas guarantees chambers that lock only from the inside.”

Kili laughs.

“I’m sure he does,” he says. “But I have seen enough of that wood to last an age.”

“Very well,” Gimli agrees. “Joy and prosperity to you, then, my king.”

“May your halls overflow with gold,” Kili returns reflexively, but he knows they both gave up the desire for gold long ago.

\----

He does not die in battle. He slips out of Erebor to the outskirts of the town below. Bard is long since dead: the lives of men are so fleeting. He envies them a little.

The rest of the company is dead as well, some falling in battle, others succumbing to old age. Even Bilbo is gone, though he lived far longer than he should have.

Gimli went to the West with Legolas twenty-eight years ago; Kili still envies him the peace of white ships and full sails.

He envies his brother, too, cut down in youth, never knowing what it is to feel old, eyes heavy with the weight of a thousand horrors.

He lies back in the grass at the edge of the wood and thinks of the fourteen of them gathered around a fire, remembers what it was to be young and wide-eyed and have his whole life ahead of him.

Remembers his brother at his side.

“I did the best I could for our people, Fili,” he murmurs, closing his eyes. “I think – I think you might even be proud of me.”

“It’s the only thing I’ve ever been,” says the achingly familiar voice.

Kili opens his eyes, and Fili reaches out a hand.

“Come,” he says, helping Kili to his feet and embracing him. “You’ve done well, brother. Now it is time to rest.”

When Kili enters the halls of his fathers, he holds his head high.


End file.
